


Nightlight

by acerbicCesspool



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Breastfeeding, Consensual Underage Sex, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Extremely Underage, F/F, Incest, Lactation, Lactation Kink, Lolicon, Parent/Child Incest, Pedophilia, Squirting, Statutory Rape, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Fisting, or as consensual as lolicon can be, twitfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-11
Updated: 2020-07-11
Packaged: 2021-03-05 04:48:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,171
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25198765
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/acerbicCesspool/pseuds/acerbicCesspool
Summary: Mom Lalonde patrols the corridors of her home nightly for the chance to scare away Rose's nightmares.
Relationships: Rose Lalonde/Rose's Mom | Beta Roxy Lalonde
Comments: 4
Kudos: 52





	Nightlight

**Author's Note:**

> **Note:** This "fic", if it can even be called that, is kind of half-assed on my part. It's more or less very detailed summarizing masquerading as a story. I hope you enjoy it anyway.
> 
> This is a "twitter fic" -- or a TwitFic as it were. If you'd like to find more content like this (I only post things long enough to be deemed worthy on this account), you can interact with me on my main/reblog [Twitter](https://twitter.com/CausticCesspool) or view more horny tweets/twit fic on my [other](https://twitter.com/acerbicCesspool) account.
> 
> As a disclaimer, I'd like to state that I _don't_ condone any of the real-life illegal sex acts that I might write about. Fiction is not the same as reality and if you're uncomfortable with any of these topics, I invite you to block, blacklist, or otherwise not interact with me or my content for your own peace of mind -- especially if you're a minor.
> 
>  **It is your responsibility and no one else's to curate what you're exposed to.** Please take the appropriate actions to moderate or remove triggering content from your feed for your own peace of mind. If I miss any tags, please feel free to mention it and I'll add it without protest so it doesn't miss your blacklist.
> 
> In the happenstance that you intend to leave a nasty review, please be aware it'll be deleted and ignored. I have no time or energy to justify my writing preferences with you.

With a destiny like Rose’s, is it any surprise that she might be plagued with nightmares? She’s eight and despite her seer abilities not having yet been unlocked, the universe is cruel and she gets a taste of her future powers in snatches of dreams. They’re not always bad, but sometimes they’re horrifying, painful.

It’s not uncommon for a tipsy or drunk Roxanne to hear her little girl giving loud, rattling screams in the middle of the night. It’s why she stays up late and wanders the empty corridors during the early hours of the morning instead of collapsing into bed when the fancy tickles her. She’s waiting because Roxanne knows that if Rose sleeps past one in the morning, she’ll likely last the rest of the night just as peacefully.

Rose’s nightmares rend the stillness of their home like demons stalking the streets for prey. They cast even the most innocent of inky shadows in doubt, have her casting paranoid glances over her shoulder and the hair rising on the back of Roxanne’s neck even though she knows exactly how safe they are in the moment. She thinks she’s come to have something of a sixth sense for them after years of repeated incidents because she knows it’s happening before she ever hears confirmation of it.

It comes tonight just after midnight. Roxanne’s naked beneath her fancy finery, her robe tied tight around her body and a glass of champagne in her left hand. Her steps are silent against the creek of the floorboards and she’s already nudging the door to Rose’s room open with her hip when the first shriek curdles her blood.

Roxanne hates this. She hates to see her sweet little Rosie so upset. She’s thrashing in a bed that’s far too big for her, sweat beading her temples and sheets wrapped around her legs like tentacles dragging her into the depths. Roxanne throws back the last of her drink before setting the empty martini glass on the bedside table. She leans forward over the mattress and gently unwraps Rose from her confines before tossing the sheets out of the way. 

Roxanne’s robe is silent when it hits the floor, baring large leaky breasts. They sag with age and the heavy weight of them, the nipples wet and leaking dribbles of milk. They’re always ready for Rose to suck them dry and she only needs to see her daughter before their eagerness dampens her clothes. She never did have the heart to wean Rose from her breast milk -- it’s been a comfort to the both of them. 

The bed squeaks as Roxanne crawls up onto the mattress. Rose’s back is arched up off of it in the throes of an unseen horror that Roxanne can’t even begin to imagine. She clucks her tongue as she settles down next to her little girl, wraps a gentle arm around her shoulders and drags her to lay half atop her body. Rose drops like a lead weight on Roxanne’s left breast and she winces at the impact even as she rucks up her nightgown around her hips. 

Rose stills as if she can sense her mother, her eyelashes fluttering but remaining shut as her face is tucked against a breast. Roxanne hums the beginnings of a familiar lullaby and uses her free hand to direct a nipple to Rose’s mouth. It brushes against her lips and wets them, a drop of milk sliding into her mouth and that’s enough to trigger a reflexive response. Rose latches onto Roxanne’s nipple like she’s a baby; her tongue peaks out of the corner of her mouth for a fraction of a second before she begins a slow, rhythmic suck from it.

“That’s my girl, my little Rose,” Roxanne croons approvingly. She releases herself so she can cup Rose’s face instead, brushes her fingers gently over the pinched lines of her daughter’s face. “It’s okay, Mommy has you. You’re safe, baby girl.” The fingers of her opposite hand dance down over the cheeks of Rose’s ass. They slide into the crux between them and nudge her thighs until they’re on either side of Roxanne’s. 

“Mommy’s going to make it all better, Rosie,” Roxanne assures, her fingers sliding between the folds of Rose’s cunt. It’s dry, but not for long. She finds the small nub of her clit and thumbs over it, feels the soft jolt of Rose’s body in response and smiles. “That’s it, let go of whatever dreams are haunting you.” She starts a rhythm of rubbing, her fingers firm and certain until Rose melts against her.

Roxanne can see the way Rose’s nightmares are fading in favor of a more delicious type of dream. The suction around her nipple is stronger, more focused, and she can feel the corresponding throb of her own pussy when Rose begins to grind herself down against Roxanne’s fingers, her thigh. A quick test finds slick oozing between the lips of Rose’s cunt; it smears against her fingers tacky and thick, makes Roxanne regretful that she left her strap in her bedroom. 

“...Mommy?” comes a groggy voice thick with sleep and confusion. Rose’s mouth slides off her nipple, spills milk down her chin as she lifts her head to blink up at her. Roxanne smiles down at her little girl, admires the youthful chubbiness of her cheeks and the flush of tear-stained cheeks in the absence of distress. 

“I’m here, baby. Mommy’s got you,” she says, crooking a finger at her daughter. A small hand braces itself against her shoulder as Rose scrunches her face up at Roxanne with sudden realization. It’s her “I don’t actually need any help” face and it makes warmth blossom in Roxanne’s chest, has her stomach twisting with unbridled love. Rose decides against saying anything, but she angles her hips down into her mother’s fingers as she obligingly gives her a kiss.

Rose’s mouth is small against hers. Her lips are half the size of Roxanne’s and her tongue, when Roxanne coaxes it into her mouth, tastes faintly stale and sweet. Roxanne’s cunt squeezes around nothing needily at the feel of it so confident and smooth against hers. Slick drools down her thighs as her tongue twines with her little girl’s and sucks like Rose does her breasts every morning and night.

“You don’t have to do everything all by yourself, Rosie,” Roxanne says breathlessly when they part. Her breathing is fast and heavy, her eyes half-lidded but serious as they meet her daughter’s. “Everyone needs help sometimes. Even I do -- and I always have you there to help me, don’t I?” 

Fingers that had gone lax during their kiss start up again and Rose gives a low whine and bites her lower lip. She squeezes her eyes shut as Roxanne’s middle finger traces the rim of her hole before slipping inside to the first knuckle. “Mommy,” Rose says, half-childing and half a moan. She rolls her hips down against Roxanne’s finger and her pussy, so young and eager, sucks her finger up into it to the third knuckle. 

“Don’t pretend you don’t like it when Mommy helps her little girl feel good,” Roxanne teases, slowly fucking her it in and out of Rose. She’s so soaked that each thrust produces a noisy squelch in the quiet of the room. Rose huffs, looks like she’s going to say something particularly sassy or even passive-aggressive, but Roxanne rolls her wrist. 

The first prod of Rose’s g-spot produces a sharp cry and all the fight goes out of her just like that. Roxanne chuckles. She squeezes her own thighs together and resists the urge to rock her hips up against her daughter at the look of naked want on Rose’s face. Her eyes are glassy and out of focus, her mouth open in a small “o” of surprise. It’s beautiful, but that’s hardly a surprise. She’s never met anyone more lovely than her little Rosie.

“Mommy, ah!” Rose strangles out. Roxanne’s quickening the pace, slipping a second finger in alongside the first and targeting Rose’s g-spot with ruthless efficiency. Her wrist twangs from the uncomfortable angle, but she ignores it as chubby thighs clamp down around her wrist instinctively. Rose rides her fingers around tiny sobs of pleasure, tears tracking her cheeks as she’s relentlessly overstimulated. Her flat chest rubs against Roxanne’s breasts, sending splatters of milk spilling across both their bodies and leaking into the bed. 

Rose comes with a gasped mewl, her eyes screwed shut and a bit of drool leaking down her chin. Her nails bite into Roxanne’s arms as she frantically grinds her cunt against her mother’s fingers. It spasms around them, pulsing and clamping around her digits as it would were it sucking a cock dry. Roxanne’s so close to coming herself, so needy, that she can’t resist taking one of Rose’s small hands in hers as she collapses atop her chest in exhaustion. 

Roxanne folds Rose’s hand into a small, pudgy fist before directing it down between her legs. Her own pussy is soaked and both of their hands are wet before they even reach her folds. “Mommy needs your help, Rosie,” Roxanne says with only the slightest tremor to her voice. Rose’s only response is a grunt as Roxanne lubricates her fist in slick before pressing it to her eager hole.

It slides inside of her with little fuss, no thicker than one of the fatter cocks Roxanne’s taken over the years. She digs her heels into the bed and arches her hips up off of it as she encourages a weak, but recuperating Rose to push it deeper inside her. “That’s it, baby,” she says as Rose rolls over onto her side atop Roxanne for better angle and reach. She yawns sleepily and rubs her face against a breast, seals her lips around one of Roxanne’s nipples and begins to take deep gulping swallows.

“Oh god, Rosie,” Roxanne chokes out and with Rose’s help she fucks herself down against her daughter’s fist in a race for completion. Rose helps, her eyes squeezed into squinted slits as she pumps her hand inside her Mommy. She’s too tired to be properly enthusiastic, but it’s still enough to have Roxanne’s pussy clamping down around her wrist in a sucking contraction as she comes with a muffled cry. 

Rose spreads her fingers wide inside of her mother as slick squirts out in a violent gush between their bodies. It wets the bed and her nightgown, ensures that the next order of business once Roxanne gets her legs back is a bath before they both retire to her bed for the night. Roxanne can feel her pulse in every line of her body. She can feel the throb of it in her face, heart, cunt, and toes -- a sharp juxtaposition of the thick fuzziness invading her mind. She pants heavily as she eases herself back into the bed and winces when Rose puts her fingers back together and pulls it from her gaping hole. 

“Thank you, Rosie,” Roxanne sighs. She watches with half an arm curled over her daughter’s small waist as Rose switches from one breast to the other. Her teeth scrape a nipple and Roxanne shudders at the increased sensitivity, feels a corresponding clench between her legs and worries her lower lip at the too much, too soon immediate response. The relief of a drained breast is a pleasure in and of itself and Roxanne could never deny Rose her reward or creature comforts after a job well done.

“I love you, baby girl,” Roxanne tells her. Big purple eyes crack open to stare up at her. Roxanne can see her swallowing down the last dregs of milk as Rose lifts her slick, drying hand to drag the wet of it down her Mommy’s face purposefully. Roxanne squeals in mock disgust, prompting a giggle from Rose around a nipple before she slurps and pops off it altogether. 

“It’s only fair,” Rose chides her as she slips fingers wet with slick into her mother’s mouth. Her eyes darken when a hot tongue laves itself against her palm and Roxanne sucks on each digit for a thorough cleaning before letting them go. The scent of sex is thick in the room, but the atmosphere is light and happy. Roxanne can only hope that she’ll be able to continue patrolling her daughter’s dreams in her never-ending quest to expunge nightmares. 

All Roxanne wants is to foster an unconditional love between them, to gift Rose with all the tools she needs to arm herself for any future eventuality. More than anything, she wants her daughter to have these small moments between just the two of them to light up the darkest corners of her mind should the day come where she’ll need to. Something’s coming. Roxanne doesn’t know what it is, but there’s a deep inset certainty that tells her only one of them will make it out alive. She’ll make damned certain that it’s Rose who paves the way into the future.


End file.
